The Slow Burn (Part 2): Mage
by Sian Khali
Summary: The threat of impending Blight, rogue Templars, rebellious mages and the forbidden romance, with a pinch of angst and complications on the side to spice things up. In this rendition of the mage storyline from Origins I try to answer the question of what would happen to an Amell who wasn't recruited into the wardens (and If I do my job right, you can skip part 1 and jump right in).
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome back!**

 **I've returned as promised with a fresh batch of this written adventure, which I'll do my best to update regularly.**

 **But first of all - a grand shout out to all my new followers/favourites and readers - Welcome, welcome and thank you! It's always exciting to see someone else liking this scribbles of mine . Especially since this is my first attempt to write an epic tale of such terrifying proportions in another language. (TSB part 1 was 100 pages long...O.O ! When/How did that happen!?)**

 **A special shout out to all my regular and new commentators/reviewers on the first part of this story: macramaegoldstar, SNicole25, ClaireBrink, Sherry 205, Judy and** **Marika Halliwel. Thank you for all your feed back, it was always fun and exciting to read it. I absolutely adore you all. *hugs and cookies***

 **To the rest of my lovely readers: feel free to chime in with a comment if you feel like it, it's always welcome and appreciated (just please let the criticism stay on the constructive side).**

 **And now it's time for me to stop this gushing feast, so get comfy, s** **it back, relax and grab something delicious to eat or/and drink and** **I hope you enjoy the ride.** **;)**

* * *

Isra woke up with a start. The small room she was in seemed vaguely familiar, the walls dull and grey as they were before, but she couldn't remember how she got here. She closed her eyes grimacing in pain. Her head was pounding.

 _Well. This doesn't seem like the Fade_. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes again. The grey walls were still there, looking as bleak as ever. _No. Not the Fade_. She took another deep breath, gathering her strength to stand up but it left her just as quickly and she fell back on the bed with a groan. She felt as week as a day old kitten.

It felt like the worst possible hang over one could have. The walls were still spinning around her, her head felt close to exploding and her insides seemed unsure as to whether they wanted to stay inside her body, or just make a run for it and escape their fleshy prison.

She blew out a gust of air, staring at the ceiling. The colony of spiders that kept her entertained for the past few days she spent in this small room was still there. She turned her eyes away in annoyance. The spiders can offer only so much diversion, before they become as boring as the rest of her surroundings. She needed to get out of here.

Taking another deep breath she pushed herself of the worn excuse for a mattress and promptly managed to roll herself on the floor, landing with a loud thud. _Ow_! She closed her eyes against the pain trying to catch her breath. The floor seemed solid enough. _No, this definitely is_ _ **not**_ _the Fade_.

From somewhere behind her she registered a door opening, with a loud screech that made her wince at the new wave of pain it send through her head.

"What is…" the newcomer's voice trailed off as the answer to that obvious question became apparent.

Isra turned her head towards its source, observing a pair of armoured boots clanking their way towards her. Wincing with every step they took, Isra cursed whoever thought it would be a grand idea to have a metal clad Templar be the first one to respond to her waking up. She just passed the Harrowing, didn't she? There was no need for her to still be surrounded with a group of suspicious guards, snarling and rattling along. She was a member of the Circle now, a mage…her thoughts got interrupted as a pair of hands, lifted her and placed her back on the mattress.

"Hey!" she managed to croak in feeble protest.

"Here."

A small vial of lyrium suddenly materialised in her hand as her guard, helped her sit up on the mattress. She looked at him in confusion. He was an elf. An elven Templar. Isra gaped at him in astonishment, unsure whether she should be more stunned by the vial or the fact that the Templar was not human.

"Drink up. It will help." He turned around towards the small table in the other corner, unfazed by her reaction and proceeded to pour out a glass of water from a pitcher standing there.

Isra gazed back at the vial thrumming with magic in her hand. Apprentices weren't allowed to drink lyrium. Its use was usually postponed for as long as it could be due to its addictive qualities. Responsible use of lyrium being hammered in their minds from the very first time they stepped through the Tower's doors. Even mages aren't completely resilient to it, enchanter Carey used to repeat every single time, he broached the subject.

 _I guess I really am a mage now_ , Isra thought staring at the blue liquid swirling around in the small vial. A sense of childish excitment went through her at the thought that she was now finally able to drink it, if she wanted to. _The forbidden was not forbidden anymore_.

"Go ahead." The Templar was watching her with calm interest, a glass of water in his hand. "The sooner you do it, the sooner you'll be able to get up again."

Isra returned his gaze, lifting an eyebrow in scepticism. A lifetime of hearing about the dangers of using lyrium left her with a certain amount of reluctance when it came to _actually_ drinking it.

The Templar sighed, adopting a patient look of someone explaining the most obvious thing to a simpleton. "You're experiencing withdrawal. The giant amount of lyrium that you were just exposed to during the Harrowing, can be a shock to the body that is not used to it yet. So the headache, the pain, the weakness is just a consequence of that, and similar to alcohol, a small amount of lyrium in the morning after can counter the effects, helping the body recover from its ordeal faster. Fight fire with fire and all that."

 _A Templar should know about it, I guess_. Isra shrugged her shoulders, uncorking the vial. She carefully sniffed the contents. It didn't have any particular smell, but it left her with a tingling sensation in her nose, causing her to sneeze violently.

 _Well, it's now or never_. Croaking out a soft "Cheers" to the Templar, she drained the small vial in one gulp. It was disgusting. She shook involuntarily as it slowly made its way down.

"Here." The Templar offered her the glass of water that Isra accepted gratefully, draining it immediately.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now I suggest you get a move on. The First Enchanter is expecting you."

He took the glass from her, placed it back on the table and left with a small nod of acknowledgment.

Isra sighed as he closed the door, leaning back on the wall behind her. Her innards finally settled themselves back into her body as warmth slowly spread out through her. She could feel the magic buzzing inside her, her headache gradually dissipating as it was slowly being replaced by clarity.

"Right." She said out loud, as she finally managed to stand up on her next attempt. She froze into place almost immediately noticing the neatly folded golden robes placed on a chair next to the table. Mage's robes. _I guess this makes it official_.

She let out a sigh of relief and moved towards the chair to put them on _._ "I made it."

 **\- o . O . o -**

Isra had never been inside the First Enchanter's study before and it took all the willpower she currently possessed to concentrate on what he was saying. Exotic artefacts and unusual diagrams that littered it were interesting enough, but her focus was completely devoured by the numerous books covering the walls. There were so many titles she had never encountered before and her hands itched with the desire to peruse.

"... staff and of course new quarters."

Isra's attention perked up as she noticed the staff Irving was holding out to her. Her first staff. Holding it, she could feel the thrum of magic flow through her, making the hairs all over her body prickle. Everything felt surreal. The Harrowing, the Templars, the fear, the last few days … the loss of her friends. It was one giant nightmare, one from which she felt she could never wake up.

"So…" Isra took a deep breath, looking back up at the first enchanter. "That means it's over, right? I made it?"

Irving nodded reassuringly. "Yes. You are now an official member of the Circle. Congratulations, child."

"I hope that also means that I'm not in the Templars' custody anymore and that the interrogations are over."

"It took some time, but even Gregoir had to admit eventually that there was no proof linking you to Jowan's escape. I am sorry child, for everything we've put you trough in the last few days. You have to understand that with the problems within the Templar Order, the Blight, Anders' escape and now Jowan's, not to mention his use of blood magic…" Irving tiredly shook his head as if he still couldn't believe that fact. "Tempers have been running high and Gregoir was never known to be a calm and patient man."

"So I served as a scapegoat."

"I would never quite put it that way. In spite of his other flaws Gregoir is a rational man and he recognised his own error in the end. In any case your successful Harrowing put the matter to rest. Now you are a part of our community…"

"What do you mean the Harrowing put the matter to rest?" Isra interrupted him, sensing an uncomfortable truth lurking behind that statement.

"You are the youngest mage of this Circle to have undergone the Harrowing. Combine that fact with the circumstances that led to it, I believe the answer is quite obvious. With all that was going on, nobody knew quite what to do with you. The question of tranquillity came up on more than one occasion. Your magic was unreliable and unpredictable, your aptitude for certain schools of magic completely inexistent." He paused, giving her a direct look that held a hint of disappointment.

Isa blushed slightly, focusing her attention on the hem of her new robes. She knew well enough how bad she was at certain types of magic that she really didn't need that fact to be specifically pointed out. Especially not by the First Enchanter.

"Even so, you seem to have impressed a lot of people that spoke on your behalf. Templars, nonetheless. Before he left for Ostagar, Hadley quite fervently advocated against your Tranquility..."

At that Isra gazed back up in disbelief. "The _Knight-Captain_?"

"… and your mentor, Enchanter Hayes, managed to convince more than one Senior Enchanter to do so as well." Irving continued, ignoring her interruption. He shook his head in what apeared to be an amused disbelief. "All in all, it gave me the opportunity to suggest an early Harrowing as an alternative. With the Blight and so many escaped mages, the Templars are spread thin as it is, not to mention the whole fiasco with that Templar who attacked you in broad daylight a couple of months ago … Gregoir has few he can trust so it would be impossible to keep you under constant lock and key and guarantee your safety at the same time. Especially while the culprits behind the attack appear to still be at large."

"So in short, I became a nuisance and in consequence keeping me alive a problem. The Knight-Commander couldn't risk another attempt on my life and have the mages of the Tower rise up in protest. It was far easier to remove me as a threat, but he couldn't very well throw me out of the nearest window. So his only other two options were Tranquility or the Harrowing in which the odds were stacked against me from the beginning due to my lack of ability and experience in certain magic areas. Which I'm guessing is the main reason it was allowed. It's easier to dispose of a dead body, than to have another Tranquil in your care, especially after the fiasco with Silani." Isra commented cynically.

Irving turned away from her and moved towards his chair. "Not quite." he added after he sat down with a grunt. "It was more a matter of trust. Gregoir didn't want you dead. Whatever you may think of him, know that he cares. He is one of the few Templars who don't see mages as monsters, which is why he still can be reason with… from time to time." He added with a lopsided smile. "What was important to know in regards to your situation in essence came down to trust. You see, the Harrowing is not so much a test of your abilities as it is a test whether you can be trusted with them."

"Why exactly was that so important in my case?"

"I don't think that question needs an answer, given your unique situation in regards to the recent incident with the Templar and your penchant for attracting trouble … I only hope that you learn from your experience and try to avoid repeating those types of mistakes in the future or I'm afraid I'll lose the ability to interfere on your behalf. Gregoir is upset as it is at the fact that you got 'rewarded' with the Harrowing and Mica got a leaner punishment in comparison to the Initate." He shook his head mournfully. "The whole thing was an unfortunate affair."

"Mica?" Isra hadn't dared to ask about the fate of her best friend throughout the whole interrogation process. "Is he all right?"

"As much as one can be in his case. I managed to convince Gregoir that a couple of weeks of isolation in the Tower's cells would be enough of a punishment."

Isra let out a relieved sigh. _Thank the Maker he's all right_. "May I … see him?"

"You know that's currently out of the question, child." Irving sighed wearily. "It will be better for everyone if you stay away from your friend for now, to ward of suspicion of your involvement with Jowan's escape."

"Of course, I understand." Isra nodded slowly, trying her best to hide her disappointment. "So… what happens now?"

"As a Mage, you're now an official member of this Circle. That title offers you at least some protection - which was also one of the key reasons that worked in favour of you undergoing the Harrowing as soon as possible - it's a lot harder to attack a Mage in the middle of the day and get away with it. As the youngest member of the Circle you're not yet expected to take up any of the more difficult responsibilities, however we can't have you walking around and doing completely nothing. You'll continue to study in the meanwhile until I deem you ready to be fully integrated as a fully-fledged member of the Circle. However, since your life might also potentially still be in danger I expect you to concentrate your efforts primarily into staying out of trouble and as inconspicuous as it is possible until all of the perpetrators are found and dealt with."

"You don't need to warn me about that. I made a promise to Hadley to keep my nose out of trouble and I intend to keep it."

"Good. The rest of the day is yours, child. Passing the Harrowing is a magnificent achievement, if not downright the most important one in a mages life, so perhaps a little celebration is in order." He finished with a warm, encouraging smile.

A quaint idea, Isra thought bitterly, if only I still had at least one of my friends here to celebrate with. With Jowan on the run, Mica locked up and Silani a tranquil somewhere in the Kirkle's Circle, keeping Karl company, she was completely alone. To top it all of a man she considered the closest thing to her father, Enchanter Hayes was down in Ostagar, probably getting eaten by Darkspawn at this very moment. Consequently she didn't really feel like celebrating in the first place.

"Ah! Clea." Irving exclaimed, interrupting her dark musings. "You're just in time. This is our newest Member of the Circle I was talking about. Would you please escort her to her new quarters?"

Isra turned to see a young, black haired mage enter Irving's study whom she recognised immediately. Even though Clea was a couple of years older than her, the fact that she was one of the most beautiful women that lived in this Circle made her a hard to miss in the Circle's throng of mages.

"Of course First-Enchanter." Clea answered with a polite smile, and a nod towards Isra. "Follow me."

Isra took her leave and followed her new guide. The First Enchanter had a funny way of helping her stay inconspicuous. Being in Clea's company was a sure way to guarantee she remained completely unnoticed to any, if not all casual observers.

"So you're the youngest mage to successfully complete her Harrowing in this Circle…"Clea commented as soon as the door closed behind them. Her dark eyes slowly taking in her measure. "Interesting."

"How so?"

"It's just unexpected. You're so…unremarkable."

"Not if you ask the Templars, I'm not."

"I've heard." Clea answered with an amused smile. "In any case, I'm your new room-mate. I'm sorry to say that we have the rare privilege of a shared accommodation. I've been trying to get myself a private room for years, but with no success. I doubt you'll have any either, especially considering the fact that you've probably got a few crazy Templars on your tail. I guess the First-Enchanter hopes they won't try an attack as long as there is someone else around. Strength in numbers and all that. I hope you don't snore."

"I could ask you the very same thing. But no, I don't." Isra added as an afterthought. Her new room-mate sure was very talkative...

Clea's smile widened at Isra's answer. "Well, I don't either, so we'll get along just fine."

"One can only hope."

"And here we are." Clea said only few moments later, as she stopped in front of a door that supposedly lead to their quarters. Isra stood in disbelief, staring at the door in front of her. "Your bed is at the end."

"The end? You mean Karl's room?" Isra managed to ask after she found her voice.

"Oh, you knew him? Yes, it was his room. But I suppose it's yours now."

"He was my mentor, for a short time." Isra replied evenly. "I visited him a couple of times… before he was sent to Kirkwall." _And I guess this means he is not coming back any time soon_.

"Oh, of course. Well, you should feel right at home then. I've just been transferred here from the shared quarters upstairs. They ignored my application for a private room. Again. " Clea added, not hiding her annoyance. "Well, anyway. I have a couple of things that need doing and they won't get done without me."

"Right. Anyway, thank you for the escort…" Answered Isra with a polite smile, which froze on her face as she noticed a certain figure standing a few paces behind Clara. "Excuse me. I need to…have a few words with… my guard."

"That's him?" Clea asked as she turned back to check out the figure in question. "Looks kinda young. Oh, well." She added with a shrug. "I guess age doesn't really matter as long as he is effective at his job. In any case, have fun! Oh, and the First-Enchanter told me to warn you to avoiding roaming around the Tower without at least some company that you know you can definitely trust. In any case, see you later!" Clea finished with another smile and a wave, returning back in the direction they've come from.

Isra approached him with a shy smile as soon as her new room-mate was out of hearing. "Cullen." His replying smile made her knees a little weak. Is it possible that he actually got better looking during the last few days? "You're returning to your body guard post again?" She prayed the hopeful note in her voice was not too obvious.

He shook his head in negative, his smile dissipating a little. Was that a twinge of regret, she saw? "No. I only wanted to…uh, see if you're…alright? "

Isra felt her heart melt a little in reaction to his query. "As all right as I can be, I guess. Considering everything that's happened." She replied in a quiet voice, looking down at her feet. There was no way she could mention the last few days to a Templar and not feel at least a little bit uncomfortable about it. She was in their custody not too long ago after all, and the experience wasn't particularly pleasant.

"Th-they picked me as the Templar to strike the killing blow if… if you became an abomination."

Isra looked up at him, surprised at the sudden change of subject. "Oh." She didn't really know how to respond to that kind of statement. _My condolences_? "Uh…I see. Would you've …done it?" Well this was becoming rather awkward…

"I would have done my duty. Even if I'd feel terribly about it in the end … I-I'm just glad it didn't come to that." He added with a sheepish smile, looking anywhere else but her.

"That's all right." Isra replied with a smile of her own. Her heart was beating awfully fast. He cared. At least a little. "I understand. I…I'm just glad it was you. W-would be you… Instead of some other Templar."

He seemed surprised. "O-oh?"

"I mean… I trust you. And I know that if you had to do …. _that_. You'd be quick about it. Gentle. Right?" _Oh, Isra you fool, just stop talking_! She felt a blush coming on.

Thankfully he had the decency to blush, which made the awkward conversation a little less… awkward. _Embarrassment is a great equaliser,_ Isra mused to herself. "I would. I'd never let you suffer."

Isra's breath hitched. In a weird way this was the most romantic exchange she had ever had. "Right." She said barley, stifling down a giggle. She needed to escape, before she'd say or do something that would embarrass her even further. "Well…it was good to see you."

"You too." He answered with another one of his smiles that came dangerously close to melting her insides into a giant pile of mush. "I…uh." He seemed to fidget a little as he looked around, probably to check if anyone else was watching them. No one was. They were completely alone Isra noted, as did her heart which decided now was the best time to pace up to a dangerous rate.

Apparently coming to the same conclusion as she did Cullen reached into his robes, pulling out a small parcel and presenting it to her, all the while blushing furiously. "I ...uh… brought you something. I-I mean…c-congratulations. On passing your Harrowing."

Isra felt her heart stop for a few moments. Their hands brushed for the shortest moment, as she took the proffered gift, his touch sending chills down her spine. An old warning from her friend Silani suddenly started to chime repeatedly in her thoughts. _Don't fall in love with a Templar_!

"T-thank you." Isra barely managed to reply, her voice escaping her. The only thing that warning managed to achieve was to leave her feeling angry at herself. It was too late. Definitely too late. She cleared her throat, her cheeks close to bursting out in flames. "I-I… have to go."

She didn't wait to hear his reply. Clutching his gift to her heart, she escaped to her new quarters, shutting the door behind her. Unfortunately she couldn't shut out her turmoil as easily as she did him.

Taking a deep breath to cool herself down she slowly proceeded towards her private partition, careful not to disturb anyone and draw more attention to herself than she already had.

The small partition that was to be her new home was completely devoid of life, the last of Karl's possession cleaned up and moved away, leaving behind a strong sense of desolation. She sat down on her new king-sized bed, letting out the breath she'd been holding the whole time. "Well…I'm off to a fantastic start."


	2. Chapter 2

Isra had no idea how much time had passed with her quietly sitting on her new bed, clutching Cullen's gift and staring into the empty bookshelf in front of her.

She had absolutely no idea what to do next. Leaving her without duties or responsibilities of any kind was the worst idea the First Enchanter could've had. She knew he meant well, but the absolutely _last_ thing she needed at this very moment was the opportunity to sit idle. It left her with all the time in the world to think about the last few months, relive the loss of Silani, Karl's unexpected departure, Jowan's stupid behaviour that left her and her best friend in a world of trouble, and now, to top it all off, her budding, ill-advised infatuation with a Templar. _Curse him for being so adorable_!

She slowly rotated the small wrapped package in her hands, observing it with distrust. If it was a good gift and she'd like it, it would make forgetting him a whole deal harder. She prayed it was a really bad gift. She really needed to hate him right now.

It should've been natural. Mages are supposed to hate, or at least really dislike the Templars. According to the current general consensus in the Tower at least, Isra noted. And in her case, that should've been especially true after the last few days…

She stood up and started pacing up and down her narrow partition. She needed to find a way occupy herself. Study? No. Bad idea. She was unable to concentrate and she didn't want to risk burning down the whole Tower by accident. Reading was also out of the question. Sitting still, was an even worse idea. It gave her mind the opportunity to lead her down the path she didn't want to go or deal with at this very moment. She needed something engaging. Something with the ability to completely occupy her mind. Leave no room for morose or otherwise useless thoughts.

She shook her head to clear her head. What she'd really need right now is a nice long conversation with her best friend, the very same crazy elf who is now rotting away in the dungeons, just because of some hare brained inspiration to think that trying to break into the circle's repository, destroy a phylactery and attempt to escape in the middle of the day, _without_ a backup plan or an alternative escape route was a good idea. He was supposed to be smarter than that!

Part of her was still angry at him for not telling her about Jowan's plans. Or include her in their failed escape attempt in the first place. As funny and mad as that sounded, she'd prefer to be involved with it, even if she ended up in a cell right beside her friend. She would at least be able to congratulate him on passing his Harrowing, if nothing else.

Then again, she'd be still an apprentice in that scenario and the rite of tranquillity the only guaranteed form of punishment. No shared cell in either case.

Isra blew out her breath in frustration and sat back down on her bed. She still had no idea what to do next.

She looked back at Cullen's gift, now innocently sitting on the table, taunting her.

 _Right. That's it_. She stood up and marched up to it and snatched it off the table. The sooner she opens it up, the sooner she could get on with her day. And at least one dilemma would get resolved. She'd either hate him or she's…well, screwed.

She pulled up a chair to the table and flexed her fingers. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she carefully picked it up and unwrapped it.

For a couple of moments she just stared at it in astonishment. It was a muffin. And not just any kind of muffin but the rare, delicious treat one could get only once a year during the Circle's celebration of Satinalia. It was also her favourite.

Isra cursed out loud. It was a good gift. A very good gift. How in the Maker's name did he get it?!

Umbralis was a couple of months past and she sincerely hoped this muffin wasn't a leftover from then. She picked it up carefully and gently squeezed it. No. It was fresh. She cursed again.

It smelled delicious. She slowly inhaled its aroma and it brought back vivid memories of the past celebration as if it were yesterday. Silani laughing, Mica goofing around with a painted face that supposedly resembled the blood writing of some elven God. Dirthamen, if she remembered correctly, but she was fairly certain the writing wasn't intended to be quite the bright, vivid pink colour he chose. And Jowan was there too. The last time they hanged out together, all four of them, before he got too preoccupied with Lilly and apparently, blood magic…

She took a small bite and closed her eyes in ecstasy. Unexpectedly, it was exactly what she needed. The bitter sweet memories it brought back transported her back to the time where she was happy, her friends were still all right and she was not so alone. To a time where she still felt safe.

She was surprised to discover tears starting to form in her eyes. For the first time since this whole thing started she let them fall freely, feeling waves of relief flow through her. All the pent up emotions bubbled through to the surface, breaking down the walls she'd so carefully maintained during the questioning, leaving her feeling cleansed and free from the burdens that threatened to overwhelm her. She was still alive. She was still here. And she was still in the fight.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, quickly wiping her face. Finishing up the muffin she stood up in search of water. First, she needed to clean off the grime of the past few days.

 **\- o . O . o -**

The bath achieved its purpose, leaving her feeling fresh and rejuvenated. There were definitely perks to being a Mage. A private washing closet, with its own bathtub was definitely one of them. No more rushing through the process of cleaning herself with a line of anxious and loud Apprentices waiting for their own turn. It was a miracle how any of them managed to maintain the basic hygiene while living in the dormitory. Having only three buckets for more than thirty adolescents was a recipe for disaster.

That was also another benefit of being a Mage, she pointed out in her mind. Less smelly quarters.

Isra smiled to herself, observing her reflection in the mirror. With her wet hair cascading down her back, free of her usual tight bun she looked wild. Untamed. What she wouldn't give to be able to walk around like that. Unapologetically feral.

Her new golden robes fit perfectly. Almost too perfectly. She noted with a critical eye. They were a tight fit, only accentuating her not so insubstantial bosom. Which creep decided that tight, form fitting robes for female mages in a Tower filled with mostly male Templars were a good idea?

She let out a frustrated sigh and stood up. She needed to find a long strip of cloth that would bind down her traitorous female parts. The absolutely last thing she wanted was to attract attention, and her budding curves started to seriously hinder that objective.

Just as she left her little partition on a hunt of any other new female roommates to help her that her endeavour, she noticed Enchanter Eleina coming down towards her with a small escort of tranquil mages.

"Isra!" The Enchanter cried out as soon as she noticed her, picking up her pace. "I was so relieved to hear you've passed your Harrowing." Isra's eyes popped in surprise as suddenly a pair of arms squeezed her hard in a suffocating and most definitely unexpected hug. "I've been harassing the First Enchanter about it ever since the Templars took you in their custody. I'm glad he managed to arrange it in time."

The hug lessened for a bit, allowing Isra to take a desperately needed gulp of air. "Let me have a look at you. Did they hurt you?"

Isra shook her head in answer, still a little dazed at the onslaught of words and affection.

"Good. Come. We have a lot to talk about."Eleina added under her breath and turned, leaving a perplexed looking Isra standing in the middle of the hallway. _What was going on_?

"But…" Isra managed to object, observing the small group of tranquils quietly move past into her partition. She noticed that some of them were carrying huge stacks of books. Her books.

"Oh, right…" Eleina stopped and looked back. "I almost forgot. This is all your stuff. I had it removed as soon as I heard about the Templars taking you in. I didn't want them snooping around your private possessions and coming to any potentially problematic conclusions…"

Isra swallowed the lump that suddenly manifested in her throat. She completely forgot about the books and Silani's letters. They were all connected with her private (and quite forbidden) investigation into the abuse at the hands of the Templars that ended in her friend voluntary undergoing the Rite of Tranquility in the first place. The investigation that led to a group of rogue Templars attacking Isra in a deserted hallway in the middle of the day in order to shut her up. The same attack that ended up in her infamy and left her saddled up with a constant presence of a couple of Templar guards.

If the Templars managed to get their hands upon it, it could spell serious trouble for her. _Especially_ since the rogue Templar group that seemed to indulge in regular abuse of apprentices was still at large due to the Blight preventing Hadley to finish up with the official Templar investigation in the matter.

Not to mention the mere existence of a book about fighting techniques from Antiva among that pile; a gift from Enchanter Eleina that went completely against the Circle's rules. The Mages weren't allowed to learn hand-to-hand combat or any other fighting techniques, due to the mere fact that it would make the Templar's job of killing a lot harder.

However, that didn't stop Enchanter Eleina from trying to overturn those rules, which made her especially unpopular with the Templars. Add the fact that Eleina was a brazen and outspoken libertarian and Isra started to have serious second thoughts about the company she kept.

If her current trend was any indication, she was quite high on the Templars' black list. One of her friends was an escaped blood mage, the other one a criminal who helped him. Not to mention her dealings with Anders, the second most reviled Mage among the Templars, right after Eleina. By now, she probably managed to climb up to the number three on that list.

Regardless of her scruples, she was still glad for the help. Enchanter Eleina was a formidable ally, and a very welcome one, especially now, when all her other allies were indisposed and probably covered in a pile of Darkspawn by now.

"You coming or what?" Eleina's voice snapped her out of her musings.

"Right away. Just give me a moment." Isra added running back towards her partition. Her breasts will have to wait, but the least she could do was to arrange her flowing mane in something a lot less conspicuous. The rebellious, untamed look would have to wait for now.

She noticed the Tranquils had nearly finished up with setting her things into their appropriate places and she offered them a grateful smile and a quiet "thank you", even though it wasn't necessary. Most Mages readily ignored their presence, just as they did the Templars', but Isra never did. Especially not now, after one of her closest friends had joined their ranks.

Sending a quiet prayer to the Maker for Silani, she grabbed the necklace her friend left to her, which now held the addition of a magical ring, she'd received on her birthday from Mica. Adding a prayer for the hare brained pretty elf, she quickly pulled up her hair and followed Enchanter Eleina. If she was lucky, she'd end up with something to help her keep her mind of those useless thoughts.

 **\- o . O . o -**

"Did you know Jowan was involved with blood magic?" Eleina asked without preamble as soon as Isra closed the door to the Enchanter's small study.

"No." She replied curtly. It was a question she'd been asked a few times before in the last couple of days and was, quite frankly, sick of it. "And no, I had no idea that he planned to escape or that Mica was involved with all that nonsense in any way…"

"I'm sorry. You're probably quite sick of these type of questions by now." Eleina said with an apologetic smile. "It'll be the last time you'll have to answer them, I promise."

Isra sighed, slumping down on the nearest chair. "It's just… I'm tired of being presumed guilty, until proven innocent. And I have a distinct feeling that I'm not entirely there yet."

"Well. Being a Mage makes you guilty in the Chantry's eyes, so you're not that far off. However you're right, of course. The Harrowing was only a reprieve. Until they catch Jowan and have him confirm your story at least. Not that they'll believe him anyway."

"Any advice, then?"

"Plenty." Eleina answered with a slight smile. "But the best one I can give you at the moment is: stay low."

"That's also on the list of phrases I'm tired of hearing." Isra sighed, causing Eleina to let out a small chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sure. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to figure things out on the sly. From what Silani told me about you, you have a special set of abilities, which should come in handy."

" _Special_ set of abilities? Sounds impressive."

"Indeed." Eleina added with a smile. "Look, I'll be short. You have allies. You probably don't think so at the moment, but you do. No matter our differences, we Mages tend to stick together, especially when the Templars gang upon the obviously innocent young apprentices and use them as a scapegoat for their own failings."

"That's quite a weighted statement."

"And in complete opposition with the Templars' official stance, I know." Eleina answered, producing a bottle from somewhere under the table. "Wine?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself. Let's not get caught in pointing out the obvious…" Eleina added, pouring herself a generous dose. "That way we'll never get through to what's important in one day. Long story short: You've been quite inconspicuous and most Mages didn't really know of your existence until that idiotic attack. Lucky for us, the bad guys tend to lack the mental capacity to think of a smart way to remove someone they don't like." The Enchanter continued, emptying a half of her glass. "Or it could be just a Templar thing. They aren't really known for their academic achievements… in either case it worked in our favour. That reckless stunt they pulled, managed to get the Mages railed up a bit. You became a focal point for great many debates on whether we truly are safe under the Templar's watchful eyes and so on and so forth... Even the loyalist joined in, which was quite…surprising."

"I'd say." Isra commented quietly, amused at the thought of a few, more conservative loyalist Enchanters looking surprised themselves at the fact. "But what's your point?"

"My point, my dear girl, is that after the Templars locked you away, quite a lot of ranking Mages raised up in your defence. Now, you've been a little out of it, so you couldn't really know, but …let me paint you the general picture most of us saw, so you'll understand the situation better." Eleina added, draining the rest of her glass. "So… A young apprentice is first attacked by the Templars. Then is given Templar protection in the form of full time personal bodyguards, who are fairly quickly replaced by only one guard. And _then_ is conveniently accused of being somehow involved in an escape attempt with a blood mage friend…all the while supposedly being under Templar's supervision and protection…Do you see where I'm getting at? The Templars looked like court jesters trying to frame you. Which made them quite unpopular, to point out the obvious."

"I see."

"Well I'd certainly hope so. What's really important is the fact that it brought us back together and bought you and Mica quite a lot of protection. Now I doubt the First Enchanter told you about _that_."

"He mentioned something along those lines…" Isra murmured in response.

"Of course he did. Now we can finally come to the main reason of why I wanted you here. First of all you should know, that I asked that you'd be assigned to me as my new protégé. Now, before you start panicking and objecting along the lines of how you don't like botany, please remember that I am also specialised in your favourite type of magic, destruction magic and the whole arrangement is only temporary. At least until Enchanter Hayes comes back from Ostagar and snatches you away."

" _If_ he ever comes back."

"Oh, don't be silly girl. He is one of the most experienced and talented Enchanters the Tower has. There is no way a couple of those blighted cave-dwelling creatures will ever manage to get the best of him. Now, as for your new status as my protégé… I don't expect you to take up the position right away, so take your time if you need to."

"That's the very last thing I need right now." Isra replied, grimacing at the possibility of prolonged staring in random walls and wilting away from boredom. "If you have anything that would take my mind of things, I'd be happy to get into it."

"That is good to hear." Eleina answered with a smile. "Well then, let's begin. You sure you don't want some wine?"

Isra shook her head in reply. "I never really liked wine all that much."

"Why didn't you say so? I have a bottle of Antivan brandy stashed somewhere in here…Let me see…ah, there it is! Now, I have no intention of getting you drunk…" Eleina added with a warning gaze as she poured out a rather generous dollop of brandy in a fresh glass. "So this is only for medicinal purposes. I'm guessing a little bit of this would be more than welcome, after everything you've been through."

Oh you have no idea, Isra thought to herself as she accepted the glass with a courteous nod. "Thank you." Taking a sip she nearly chocked on in. "This is some strong stuff." she managed to croak as her voice slowly started to make its reappearance.

"It should be. I don't drink that commercial piss our visiting Merchant is trying to pass for an Antivan brandy. Luckily I still have a few connections in Antiva who send me the real deal. High quality stuff, so don't gulp it down in one go."

"I wouldn't be able to, even if I tried." Isra reassured the Enchanter, still trying to bring her larynx back to life.

"Good." Eleina answered with an amused grin. "Now, the reason I asked you about Jowan is because of our little talk a few days ago. As you might remember I'm trying to ferret out the fools who indulge in blood magic and giving all of us a bad name in the process. So, I need to know if you know Jowan was perhaps one of them?"

Isra shook her head, taking another small sip. This thing burned like molten lava probably would if one was stupid enough to drink it, but the taste was strangely addictive and she couldn't stop. "I had no idea he was a blood mage in the first place."

"I see. Well there had to be at least some connection. I doubt that Jowan was smart enough to figure it out all by himself. Err...no offence."

"None taken." Isra wheezed. "Even Jowan was able to recognise that he was not the smartest cookie in the bunch."

"It would also be possible to gain that kind of knowledge through consorting with a demon of course…"

"It would."

"Do you think Jowan was capable of doing that?"

"Honestly I don't know. We've grown apart in the last few months. The last interaction I had with him was when he gave me a gift for my birthday. But I can honestly say he didn't seem capable of doing something like that."

Eleina sighed, leaning back on her chair. "Mica said pretty much the same thing."

"You've talked with Mica?"

"I did. Well. We did. A group of pissed of Enchanters and Senior Enchanters trying to figure things out, before the Templars could come up with another version of the story. Like I said, we've been trying to bring at least some sense into the mess, before the Templars painted everyone involved as villains. In short we've been a giant pain in the ass for the Knight Commander, looking under his fingers every step of the way. I have to remember to send him a gift basket one day when this is all over." Eleina finished with a grin. "Anyway. I was kind of hoping that Jowan would be the key I needed to unlock the door behind which those cowards practicing blood magic are hiding. No matter. I have a few other leads to pursue and who knows… perhaps I find the connection between him and that lot. I'll let you know if I do, of course."

"I'd appreciate it." Isra answered, taking another sip. This stuff was _really_ good.

"As for you. I have a few potions to make. Do you know how to make potions?"

Isra swallowed down a groan in response to that question. She hated making potions. "Only the basics."

"That's all you need. I'll teach you the rest and you can take up where Silani left off." Isra caught the note of concealed pain in Eleina's voice as she said the last few words. Silani used to be Eleina's protégé before she was made Tranquil and it was clear the Enchanter took that loss quite hard. Clearing her throat, Eleina continued in a steady voice. "However that is not all I want you to do. Earlier I mentioned your set of skills with a reason. The gist of the matter is. I want you to continue with your own little investigation, but be very discreet about it. We talked about a certain deceased Templar named Whitaker, the last time you were here. I've since had the opportunity to ask around and I have reason to believe he and Silani were not involved as lovers, as you had first thought."

"What?" Isra's ears perked up at this. "But I have their letters…"

"What letters?"

"A Templar who said he was his friend gave them to me. He was supposedly the one who helped them conceal the relationship."

"Have you read them?"

Isra shook her head. "Not really. I only skimmed through them."

"And can you confirm that the letters were really from Silani?"

"I recognised her writing."

Eleina leaned back in her chair again, biting her lower lip. "I see. Still, I want you to read through them again. I want you to be certain those letters were really written by Silani's hand."

"Why wouldn't they be?" Isra could think of a few possibilities, but she wasn't prepared to vocalise them just yet. It bordered on the completely paranoid territory and she was reluctant to go there. It was hard to come back from it.

"Well…for one thing. Whitaker preferred men."

"Oh."

"And his husband seemed quite taken aback at the suggestion of his partner having a secret love affair with a mage girl."

"His husband?" Isra asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "Still. I doubt Whitaker would've told him if he was cheating on him. From what I understand, cheaters don't make a habit of advertising their transgressions..."

"True. Which is why I want you to read those letters. Don't just skim over them again. Oh, and also bring me the ones that Whitaker supposedly written. I'll run them by his husband and we'll see what he thinks."

"All right. But…If I may…why would that Belden fellow give me fake letters? Can you honestly think of a good reason?"

"I can think of many. But we won't know for certain until we find out, and I don't really like to waste my time sitting around speculating."Eleina finished with a pointed look aimed at Isra. "Let this be your first task. And as for the official task, go over the basics of potion preparation. I need you to be able to create the basic health potion by tomorrow. Do you think you can do it?"

"If I remember correctly it involves using only one ingredient, so I certainly hope so."

Eleina looked at her in surprise and then burst out laughing. "That was a good one! I think you'll do just fine. So, tomorrow?"

Isra shifted uncomfortably in her seat, focusing on her nearly empty glass. "Before I go… I made a couple of promises to stay away from the investigation or any related risky behaviour…."

"Bah!" Eleina waved a hand in dismissal. "Nothing would ever get done in this Tower if we wouldn't stick our noses where they don't belong from time to time. I'm not asking you to run around the Tower yelling out questions to passing mages, or maker forbid Templars. I'm only asking you to read the letters that you already have in your possession for a start. As for the rest…well, I've made my intentions of rooting out the blood mages perfectly clear. And the fact that I've taken you in as my protégé works in your favour, believe it or not. For one thing it will give of the impression – and I'll make sure that it does – of you, helping me with hunting down the blood mages thing, among other things. So it will seem as if you're doing everything you can to completely disassociate with your escaped blood mage friend, thus proving and reaffirming your innocence in the matter. And you need that remember? The Harrowing was only the first step. A chance to prove yourself a valuable member of the Circle yada, yada..."

"You've thought this through."

"Of course I did. Just remember, we have to be careful about it. I want to know your intentions ahead of time, and you'll inform me of any leads you'll want to pursue, so it will allow me to come up with a cover story. We'll take it one step at a time and we won't, I repeat we _won't_ get careless about it. I will not let you come to harm and I will not let those bastards get away. Silani was like a daughter to me, and I have every intention of making them pay. And then gloat about it."

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Isra felt like laughing and she let out a small chuckle. "Well. I'll be happy to join you in the gloating party."

"Good. You'll certainly be very welcome to do so."Eleina answered with a wink. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then." Isra replied, draining her glass. _Let the games begin_.

* * *

 **To the lovely Marika Haliwell: *waves* Thank you! Glad to be back! :D**

 **Also: cyber cookies and muffins all around for _you_ and the also very lovely macramaegoldstar (I don't think words can express what a huge deal it is to hear that someone likes a character ma brainz came up with, so...honaofujh! which supposedly means something along the lines of: THAT IS F****** AWESOME TO HEAR!). Ehkm...Take your pick ;) **

**(I'm totally not trying to bribe you...totally. Nope, no bribing here...)**

 **To the rest of my readers - come to the 'dark' side. .** **We have muffins and cookies and all kinds of other delicious, yet healthy bribes...err...gifts!**

 **(Note to self, lay of the caffeine)**

 **... hope to 'see' you around next week! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello there dear readers, followers, lurkers and all you awesome people who read this creation of mine...**

 **I am sincerely sorry for my prolonged and completely unexpected absence from the interwebs.**

 **A lot of annoyingly unwelcome bad stuff happened health and family-wise, so you can imagine the gist of the mess which decided to come and pay me a visit. I successfully threw the fucker (sorry for the language, but in all honesty...it kinda deserves it) out and hopefully it got the message, and will avoid my abode from here on out.**

 **And in the meanwhile...I'm back, with new chapters and cookies to welcome all my new followers/favourites! And another batch for the other awesome bunch, that stayed with me from the time, this story was in it's ameba-stage...**

 **So, without further ado: welcome one, welcome all! Sit back, relax and I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

 **See you next week! ;)**

Leaving Enchanter Eleina's study Isra almost collided with a huge, bald and very cross-looking mountain of muscle encased in a metal plate glaring down at her.

"You are not allowed to roam the Tower's premises without an armed escort."

"Ser Malcom." Isra replied to her former – and apparently still current – guard with an innocent smile. "And here I was, wondering whether you've left me to fend on my own. And I was _not_ roaming, merely visiting my new mentor. Getting assignments. Being a good little Mage."

Malcom regarded her with steady gaze, clearly not swayed by her attempt at a sweet demeanour. "You are to wait until your guard arrives before leaving your quarters. Wouldn't want you to end up a dead, good little Mage." He added quietly as an afterthought and a slight attempt at what appeared to be a witty smile.

"I never knew you cared…" Isra replied dryly as she started down the hallway back to her quarters.

Hadley had some strange ideas about personality traits and preferences expected of a personal guard which is supposed to make a Mage feel safe…

 **\- o . O . o -**

On her way back Isra suddenly remembered a small little detail, which managed to elude her up until now. She didn't have the letters anymore. Mica had. She stopped in her tracks, cursing under her breath.

He took them the last time they spoke.

"Andraste's tits!"

"Ow!" Isra yelled loudly in reply as she crashed down to the floor. "Seriously?!" she turned back and stared up at Ser Malcom in sheer fury. "You didn't see me standing there!? And tits!? Andraste's tits!? That's what you went with?"

"I apologise. I was … distracted." Ser Malcom genuinely looked embarrassed turning a deep shade of red, which made his head seem like a giant tomato bobbing on a metal encased doll.

"Distracted!? By what? You're supposed to be my guard. Vigilant and what not." She beat away his offered hand and slowly got up, dusting herself off vehemently. "You aren't allowed to be distracted."

"It won't happen again." He cleared his throat, carefully looking anywhere but her as he apparently tried to restore at least some semblance of dignity.

"I seriously hope not." Isra replied with a mild glare, surprised at her own anger which flared up so easily. "I have no intention of mopping up the floor any time soon with my new, once-clean robes again."

"I … understand." Ser Malcom replied traces of his embarrassment nearly gone, replaced by his usual cold and professional demeanour.

"Good."

Isra started walking again, returning her focus back to Silani's supposed love letters. If those letters were forged and thus completely untrue – something she could recognise just by actually _reading_ them and not skimming through them as quickly as she did – they could be her next lead. The new evidence she needed to carry on with her investigation.

And it that was true and they were false... they arose a new and very important question – what was the purpose behind that forgery?

Isra shook her head, trying to clear her mind as she stepped through the door to her new quarters. There will be time enough for speculation later, if or when she discovers if the letters are real, but first she needed to find them. Now, where would Mica…

Isra stopped in her tracks as her eyes caught on the small table standing next to her dresser.

Why were the two giant books on entropy she'd borrowed from the library a couple of weeks ago there? She was certain that the Tranquils placed them on the bookshelf along with the others. She saw them do it when she returned to pin up her hair.

"What…" Picking them up, she noticed a small note that was carefully pinned underneath.

 _Busty minx, I throw myself at your feet._

 _Your sumptuous curves, your luscious lips leave me a trembling mess._

 _Drowning in your gaze, I lose all sense._

 _Your opulent, exquisite behind inflames me every time,_

 _Take, nay! Possess my body, my soul I am a slave to your whims!_

 _Tied to your bed, I will ascend to the Maker's hand…_

 _I am forever tiny, insignificant worshiper of the ground upon which you thread,_

 _And divine Maker knows, I am lost to him, I am exclusively yours._

Isra stood frozen, staring at the paper as if hoping she would somehow be able to make the word disappear or at least erase from her mind. "…the fuck?!"

This had to be the worst attempt at poetry she'd ever read. Who'd write such a thing!? And why?

"Please don't let it be Cullen. Not him. Please, Maker…not Cullen." She muttered quietly to herself, repeating the prayer like a Chanter would a Chant. There was absolutely no way in this world or Fade that she would ever be able to look him in the eyes or even in his general direction if it turned out to be him.

Her heart was hammering as she sat down on her bed, trying to think of any other secret admirers she might've had and that she was unaware off. She took great pains to be as invisible as was humanly possible, even though those efforts were completely dashed in the past few weeks. She had no doubt more than half, if not all of the Templars in the Tower knew her name by now. And as Eleina pointed it out, a lot of mages were aware of her existence by now as well.

"Something wrong?"

Isra looked up to see Clea standing in front of her partition observing her with an amused, interested smile.

"Er…huh…" Isra shook her head, willing her own vocabulary back in existence as revelation struck her. Clea was absolutely gorgeous and one of her new room-mates… "I think…" she stood up, clearing her throat "I think someone made a little mistake. I believe this was intended for you." Isra added quickly, blushing furiously at the thought of its contents as she waved the offending piece of paper towards Clea.

"Oh?" Clea accepted the proffered piece of paper, quickly skimming through it. "Wha… I don't …think… that's… I'm not the busty one here, Isra." She added with a cough, barely concealing her own amusement.

Isra wanted nothing more than to dissipate into thin air, at the realisation that she could indeed be the muse behind this horrid attempt at poetry. "I. I don't. No."

"For what is worth, you have my sympathies. The writing here is…colourfully appalling."

"But. No. No. Just. No." Isra shook her head vehemently, unsure whether she was trying to convince Clea or herself that such a thing would be impossible. "I. No. You don't understand. I'm…I'm not…There is _no_ way, absolutely no way I'd had an admirer. Especially not one like… _that_. You're the pretty one!"

"Right… Why don't we start at the beginning. Who gave you this poem?"

"No one. I found it on my table. Under the books." Isra waved in the general direction of her table, still shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

"Do you have any secret, or… not so secret admirers?"

"N-no." She could feel her blush starting to reach new heights, as she stared down at her feet trying to avoid Clea's inquisitive gaze. Why in the Maker's name did she show that stupid little poem to her?

"Right." Clea replied dryly, clearly not buying her answer.

"Give me that." Isra snapped, taking the poem back and rereading it quickly. A secret, dark part of her, of which her rational side fervently disapproved of, became a little bit excited at the subject matter the poem entailed. "No. He wouldn't. It's…He's not…like that."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why am I even having this discussion with you!?" Isra replied in frustration. "Yes I'm sure. He'd never write something. Just…no. At least I hope not." She quietly added under her breath. Cullen didn't seem like a hopeless romantic poet, then again...she didn't really know him all that well. "He's just… more practical than that. A warri…" she bit her tongue at the last moment as the realisation of what she was about to reveal struck her in full force, but it was already too late.

"A warrior? He's a Templar?!"

 _Fuck_. "N..." before she could even attempt to deny it, Clea pounced on her like a cat on a helpless mouse, pulling the piece of paper out of her hands again.

"Hey! Give that back!" Isra lunged after Clea, successfully knocking her down, but the older girl was stronger than her and she managed to wiggle out from under her, pinning Isra down as she sat on top of her.

"Let's see." Clea continued calmly, reading while easily fending off Isra's attempts to take the paper slip away from her. "An unusual sort of Templar. Blasphemes the Maker often enough. Then again what could you expect in a Templar that also tries to seduce young Mages…"

"Clea! Give it back! Now."

"Shhh. A moment…" Clea's brow furrowed as her focus turned on one of the corners of the paper. "Is that? An M? Looks like an M."

"What." Isra immediately ceased her struggling, her full attention turned on her tormentor.

"It seemed he left his signature. Or at least an initial."

"Let me see."

"Well you seemed surprised…is your secret admirer not an M, then?"

"Clea. Let me see. Please." Isra's heart was now beating at an alarming rate. Her focus solely centred on the piece of paper in Clea's hands. _It could be Mica trying to reach her through a coded message._

"Oh Fine." Clea replied after a short pause, returning the piece of paper, but showing no intention of moving off of Isra, crossing her arms in front of her.

Isra stared at the corner of the small paper, observing a tiny inconspicuous spot which could be easily mistaken for an innocent scrawl. It did look like a very tiny, sprawled M, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Back when they were still little, she and Mica usually passed small notes among themselves during lengthy or extremely boring lessons and in order to hide the meaning of their messages wrote in a fairly simple cypher. Only every fourth word in one, single line would be a part of the message. It made for a couple of very colourful and confusing messages for anyone not familiar with their system. However they _never_ did it in a form of a horrid-smut filled attempt at poetry. For one thing, they were still too young to know about it then.

 _Throw your gaze behind my bed_

 _Tiny knows_

" _What_ are you two doing?"

Isra snapped back from the paper to find a gaping, tall Mage staring at them, a mix of shock and interest showing on his face.

"None of your business Kinon." Clea replied casually, waving her hand as if dismissing him, then returning her attention back to Isra lying under her. "So?"

Isra felt another blush coming up as the realisation of her current, very compromising position dawned on her. "It's not… Can you please get off?" She added in a tiny voice, doing her best to focus on the celling behind Clea's cropped head.

"Not until you tell me what it's not…"

Isra sighed giving up and closed her eyes as if it would somehow help her escape the situation. "I was wrong. It was a joke. A friend of mine sent it. Now… _please_?"

"Why would he do it? Kinon! Don't you have any other important business to do instead of creeping around and staring at us like a hare-brained yokel?!" Clea snapped in clear annoyance at their observer, who seemed to be rooted in place.

"R-right….sorry. I'll…go…"

"Please do. _Now_."

Isra heard his steps fade, as he shuffled away slowly letting out a breath of relief.

"So. Why would your friend do it?"

"It's his particular brand of humour." Isra replied dryly opening her eyes and focusing them back at Clea in full force. "I don't see how _any_ of this is your business."

Clea didn't flinch under Isra's gaze, but she did slowly stood up, offering a hand to help her get up. "Believe it or not it is." She let out a deep sigh. "We need to talk. Meet me here right before dinner starts. We'll need some privacy."

"Wha…?"

"And _don't_ get into trouble in the meanwhile."

"Lay down on the bossy, will you? We've barely just met." Isra replied not even bothering to hide her annoyance with her extremely noisy roommate. Something was up with her. No doubt about it.

Clea ignored Isra's stare and turned away with a smile. "Later, dimwit."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Isra murmured furiously to herself, overcoming her surprise at Clea's response. Karl. He used that word the first time they've met to gain her attention and if Clea was somehow involved with him and his little machinations… Well, it would certainly explain something about her annoying behaviour. "Fine! See you then." _And in the meanwhile…let's see what Mica meant with this cryptic nonsense_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Aaaaaaand I'm back!**

 **This chapter was written in a bit of a hurry, and I haven't managed to find the time to proof-read it, so I apologise for any glaring mistakes in advance.**

 **But first of all! A little thank you to the two lovelies who took the time to post a review of the last chapter each: Marika Haliwell and macramaegoldstar. I give you cookies, muffins and cakes! All the good stuff! Thank you so much for your insights. It means sooooo much to hear (well read) that you enjoy reading this creation of mine. I can't really express how much. But the feeling is awesome. XD**

 **Right. On with the story...**

The Dormitory Mica slept in before his Harrowing, was slightly larger and more populated than Isra's old one was. Even so, it was almost deserted by the time she arrived there during lunch time, which was exactly how she needed it to be, if she were to get away with what she was planning.

She had no idea who or what this Tiny was, but the best and the most simple place to start was finding Mica's bed and see what's behind it. The only miniscule problem she currently faced, if one severely understated the issue, was the fact of which bed it was. Mica just passed his Harrowing before the whole debacle with Jowan, so he was probably moved into a new dormitory. Which meant…a new bed, of which location she was completely unaware. And she couldn't just go around asking about its location, without arising any sort interest. And that was the last thing she wanted, at least until she knew what she was dealing with, or had no other choice.

She didn't know who her supposed allies were, or what was their exact intention and until she did, she preferred to find the solution the old way. By herself. It was safer that way.

Not to mention the tiny little fact of the lack of Mica's stuff near his bed. "Maker's hairy ass." Isra cursed under her breath as she stared down at the empty mattress. They took all his stuff away.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

Isra stifled a scream at the quiet little voice coming down from behind her. She slowly turned around to find a skinny, little elf lying on the top bunk behind her. "Leo! You lit… bastard!" She took a deep breath trying to calm her racing heart. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Sorry." Leo replied with a smile that stated the exact opposite. "Mica mentioned you might show up."

"Mica? How…" Isra paused for a second, narrowing her eyes. "Of course. You're tiny."

"What?"

"Nothing." Isra murmured quickly, shrugging it off. Leo was always very touchy on the subject of his stature and to point it out was usually a guarantee to end up with a nasty surprise in one form or the other the next day. He was a notorious prankster and the meanest little person she'd ever met in her life.

The same age as her, they arrived at the Tower at the same time, but here was were all similarities between them ended. He was snarky, slightly choleric and annoying as a nose itch you can't scratch with his endless arguments on the superiority of elves, lost elven culture and the overall depravity of humans. Comparing them to Darkspawn on his nice, more …generous days.

The fact that he was a city elf was a minor detail in his quest to embody the elven ideal, or whatever he thought that ideal was. Consequently, he never really liked or interacted with human Apprentices all that much, Isra being no exception even though she was friends with Mica. A Dalish-born mage.

For his part, Mica found his enthusiasm 'amusing' or as he once put it "fascinatingly off-putting, yet somehow very funny." Though Isra knew the 'funny' part of his comment related mostly to Leo's comical appearance and his …feisty character. To put it plainly, Leo was not the most graceful or beautiful among the elves in the Circle…If anything, he was the exact opposite of Mica.

"It was not important anyway. Tell me everything you know. How did you know I'll get here, why … you off all people and what in the Maker's name is going on?" Isra added sending him a direct stare, promising him bodily harm if he didn't cooperate and answer her questions.

Leo narrowed his eyes returning her gaze with one of its own, mirroring its intensity. "Nothing. Right."

Isra calmly endured this small starring contest, increasing the intensity of her own stare. "Listen. You tiny, little twit. Yes. I said tiny. I don't have the time, will, nor patience to endure any of your usual tirades about height, your glorious elfy-ness or the stupidity of humans. Mica told me to come to you. I did. Now. Talk."

Leo's mouth twitched a little, but there was no outburst. "All this for Silani?"

"...in part."

"In part?"

"Is Mica all right?" Isra managed to slip through clenched teeth. Another one of this time-wasting questions and she would punch him in the face. Why on Thedas did Mica think to turn to this clown, instead of her?

Leo sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly? I don't know. I haven't seen him since he tried to escape."

"Then…how. Or why… "

"Let me make things easier for you." He said curtly, interrupting her as he jumped down from the bed. "Mica liked you. Silani liked you. And you almost got yourself killed for trying to sort this mess out. So even if I don't particularly like you, I'm willing to tolerate and help you. And also because Mica asked me to."

"Of course." Isra added dryly. "Don't worry. I'm not about to send you a gift basket for Satinalia either."

"Well… You might change your mind." Leo replied with a lopsided smile.

"Will I? Colour me intrigued."

"Come."

Isra watched the little elf walk away with fascination. If anyone had told her even this morning, that she would be communicating with this annoying little bastard in any shape or form none the less follow him about…she'd probably pissed herself from laughing so hard. Why Mica? _Why_? She thought to herself, letting out a breath of frustration as she started to follow in Leo's footsteps.

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace where we can talk. Obviously." He replied over his shoulder, sending her an exasperated look.

"Is that so?" Isra replied acerbically. "A washing closet wouldn't be my first choice."

"That's why the Templars want to kill _you_." Leo retorted, entering one of the private partitions.

Isra hesitated for a brief moment cursing her fate in all the ways she could imagine. Taking a deep breath she followed her little guide inside.

It was the last partition where Apprentices collected their dirty clothes in a giant stinky, sodden heap on the floor, which gave off a fairly distinct aroma. An aroma that if nothing else, guaranteed them the privacy they needed. If they survived the experience that is, Isra thought as she suppressed a gag reflex at the stench.

"We won't be interrupted here."

"I think I'm going to faint." Isra managed to mumble as she stuck her nose under the collar of her own robes as much as she could. The stupid corset was making matters worse in every way imaginable. "Tell me what you know and be quick about it."

Leo answered her with a nasty smile, but complied without objections. "First of all. You'll find the letters in the _Compendium on herbal remedies for fungi inflictions_. It's in the small library on third floor. Near Knight-Commander's quarters. Second bookshelf on the left. Third row. I think it was written by Comod Dunworth, or something like that. A giant book. You can't miss it."

"Are you _kidding_ me? _Fungi inflictions_?"

Leo's smile widened. It was apparent the little bastard was enjoying this. "You better hurry too. The Templars have quite a lot of those problems I hear. All that exercise and stuffy armour…That book is certainly in demand."

"You…!" Isra fumed as she searched for the right word. "Dumb little lunatic! They could be found! You've got to be the stupidest creature alive! Which hare-brained idea led Mica to believe he could trust you!? Why?" she quickly closed her mouth, as the stench threatened to overwhelm her.

"And as for the rest of the information." He continued, ignoring her outburst. "I know who's behind this."

"What?" Isra forgot to breathe for a few moments as the words sink in. "How? You better tell me everything right now or I swear… And start at the beginning."

Leo's smile disappeared as his manner turned sombre in an instant. Isra had never seen him so serious. The effect frightened her a little.

"We don't have time, so I'll only give you the short version. I…when Silani was turned tranquil. Well, it pissed me off. She was one of the best in our generation. Better than you, certainly."

"She was."

"I. What?" Leo blinked in confusion.

"I am not disputing that statement. She was better than me. What? You expected I'd be insulted? By what? I know I'm not the best there is or was. Far from it. So, carry on with your story. You can insult me later. _After_ we get out."

Leo paused a moment later and then continued at a faster pace. "So, after I heard of your incident and the rumours about foul play in regards to reasons behind Silani's tranquillity started circulating... I reached out to Mica. I was …aware of certain goings-on's in the Tower. I knew that a group of Templars were abusing elven apprentices." He took a quick breath, sending her a warning look, when she wanted to ask more about it. "Mica listened and slowly involved me into your little investigation. Which is how I know about this stuff. I was the one helping him behind the scenes. Asking questions, gathering any information I could. Information he passed down to you."

"But….you don't even like each other." Isra felt the feeling of betrayal creep up again inside her. It was highly possible Mica wanted to protect her as much as he could by leaving her out of it. But no rational argument could convince her bruised feelings. He was her best friend. She trusted him with everything. What else was he hiding from her?

"Well…we still don't. But we had a common goal. And the fact that our dislike for each other was so widely known, came as a welcome distraction tactic. Especially after the Templars confiscated all his stuff. Why he helped that stupid human was beyond me…"

"I agree."

"I guess this is the first time we agree on anything then. And on two accounts even. I certainly didn't picture this outcome when I woke up this morning."

"Neither did I. I assure you." Isra commented dryly, pressing the hem of her robe closer to her nose. Nothing made the stench of unwashed clothes of pubescent apprentices bearable, not even the surprising revelations.

"So here I am with all the information you need. We've managed to piece together the evidence from our brief conversations with the victims who were villing to talk. Mind you, there were only two. The rest of them are either tranquil, or won't talk."

"How many are there?" Isra asked quietly, hugging herself closer. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"We don't know the exact numbers. The tranquils remain silent and the rest won't talk. But it has been going on for some time now. That much we're sure of."

"How can you be sure?"

"For one thing, the bastard leading the group is quite old and well versed in avoiding notice."

"Do you know who it is?" She felt her heart starting to beat faster.

"I said I did at the beginning, didn't I?" Leo answered, annoyance seeping in his voice. "From the short descriptions, of when and where these occurrences happened and brief descriptions – which were lacking in detail due to the fact that bastards wore helmets at all times and never talked amongst themselves, while they were at it…"

"I expected as much. How do you know who it is then?"

"The ring leader is Ser Gregory."

Isra stood with her mouth gaping, stench completely forgotten. "Ser _Gregory_? MacTavish?"

Leo nodded quietly.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me. You little shit dragged me in here, in this… stench filled cess-pit only to mess around with me? You frigging little…" Isra kicked him in the shin, and turned on her heel to leave, but he was faster and he pulled her back in.

"I'm serious." Leo whispered in a pained tone. "Listen. I know it's hard to believe…."

"You've got that right." Isra added still fuming at the fact that as small as he was, he was still stronger than her and she was unable to extract herself from his grip.

Ser Gregory was one of the oldest, kindest Templars that still served in the Tower. Not only that. He should've been retired ages ago as lyrium was already starting to take its toll on his mind, but Gregoir still kept him around probably out of sentiment.

Nowadays Ser Gregory spent most of his time in the circle's Chantry praying and walking in the gardens, if the joints didn't give him too much trouble.

Not only that. He was the leader of the group of Templars who brought her in. Brought them in. Her and Leo. She remembered how his kinedness helped her overcome the fear of what would happen to her in the Circle. The fear of herself and her new-found powers.

"But… we've got proof."

"Oh?"

Leo let her go and went over to a small corner of the partition. Isra heard a couple of scraping sounds before he returned and offered her a small metal object. "See for yourself."

Isra took what appeared to be a ring and froze in place. It was the ring only higher officers in the Templar order received. The personal signet ring. "Where…h-how did you get this?" The inscription on the ring was clear as day. _Ser Gregory MacTavish. Knight-Lieutenant._

"Silani gave it to us. Well. To Mica to be precise."

"What?" Isra's attention was back in focus.

"I understand she left him a package of her possessions after her…well…decision. He said he found the ring among them and almost thought of returning it back, but never got around to it. And then after our talks with the two victims…Well, he sort of fits the description."

"Sort of?" Isra felt all the blood rush out from her head. A part of her was still unwilling to comprehend what was going on.

"Well, he wasn't… infirm for one thing." Leo replied, his voice dripping with acid.

"Did Mica found anything else? Anything on how Silani got the ring in the first place? Did she write anything? Anything at all? He could've just lost it and she found it and intended to give it back to him…"

Leo shook his head. "No. We looked. Believe me, we looked."

"Well it's quite a leap of logic, to find this ring and assume it is in any way shape or form connected to the …abuse."

"Silani left you a pendant from another Templar, no? You thing she collected this stuff like a magpie?"

"No. But. You said you concluded this was it after you learned of when and where the events happened?"

"Yes. It was Ser Nickles' turf. Ser Gregory's protégé's."

"Aha. Right. It's still quite the leap."

"That's why Mica wanted you to know this. You can review our theory. He also left you Silani's package at… the Cove?"

Isra nodded quickly, starting to feel a sense of urgency. She needed to get there. Perhaps the answers were there. "Anything else?"

"No. That's pretty much it." Leo replied, crossing his hands over his chest. "Just one more thing though. You're not cutting me out of your investigation."

"Why? Do you want to die? I'm already risking my neck out there and I don't need you tripping me up along the way."

" _I_ am already involved. And _I_ gave you all the new information. _I_ helped with the investigation. I'm staying."

"Fine. I'm not arguing about this now. We've wasted enough time as it is." She added under her breath as she pushed the door to the partition open.

"So, what's the plan?" Leo asked, following her like a gnat.

" _I_ am going to pick up those letters. And then…well. I have other work to do."

"And me?"

"You…." Isra stopped and turned around, causing him to nearly crash into her. He jumped away as if she carried the Blight. "I forgot to ask. Did you leave me the message from Mica?"

"No."

"Then who did? And how did you know I would come?"

"I don't know who did. Mica said he would find a way if need be, and apparently he has. He told me everything a couple of hours before he went off with that stupid human. He said I was to give you the information, the ring and hide the letters, if he was somewhat…indisposed. And to expect you to come by as soon as you could manage. So I waited for them to release you and then you passed your Harrowing and well…here you are. The very next day. Just like he said you would."

"Well. Thank you…I guess."

"I'm not doing this for you, you know."

"I'd be shocked if you were. And I've had my fill of shocks for one day." Isra murmured to herself and started walking. "You know what you can do though? Get me the information of who's on patrol tonight on this level."

"Why?"

"Just do it all right? It's better you don't know why." And it's much better if the location of the Cove remains secret, Isra added to herself. Apparently she'd have a busy night.

"Fine." Leo replied, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

"Good. See you before dinner time then. I'll be in the upper library."

"See you then."

Isra sighed dejectedly as she left the dormitory. This will be a long day. A very long day.


End file.
